


Need

by DualExistence



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch, Blackwatch Era, Cats, Fluff, Genji is a mess as per usual, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I will go down with sociopathic Genji and you can't stop me, Jesse talks a little about his past, M/M, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, or like me trying to attempt fluff, this is again a work of hyper empath x sociopath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 05:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualExistence/pseuds/DualExistence
Summary: A person like him learned early on that allowing himself such things as the attachment, need and dependence on others are causing him significant pain and the response to his mind was to limit his access to these things. He learned to depend on no one, but himself.But sometimes he is capable of bonding with someone, or even love to a point of obsession. How there are flashes of empathy, but they aren’t consistent.Sometimes, Genji endures the intense pain of allowing himself these things, because the human brain craves someone else’s presence more than anything else.I dedicate this story to my cat, who stares me into the eyes and then knocks over my Genji figma.





	Need

Being touch starved with such a brain like his was terrible. 

  
Every thought of needing someone, attachment, love, were all things he had learned to deny himself access to not get hurt, but in the end, the brain wanted those things after all.  
So when the rare spark of feeling actually reached him, he suffered.  
Suffered badly because he was conflicted between hiding in the arms of that man who constantly invaded his personal space – and he let it happen anyway – and the urge of destroying everything around him in a violent rage.

Genji watched McCree from across the room, those conflicting thoughts in his head ruining his calm.  
His assigned partner was sitting on the couch, deeply consumed by the book in his hands.  
  
Genji stared at his fingers, how he turned a page to continue reading. McCree didn’t _look_ like someone who was reading a lot, but he did. Every so often the cyborg found him somewhere sitting with a book in his hands, from fantasy novels to science, biographies and psychology, he seemed to read anything that he came across.  
  


McCree turned another page, humming softly against his closed lips. It was surreal how he seemed to not notice Genji’s stare on him or how the younger man’s nails were digging into the fabric of the armchair he was sitting on, legs pulled to his chest.  
If there were other people in the room, they certainly would have noticed the menacing aura that Genji was radiating, the discomfort and conflict in him almost visible to the human eye.  
  
His heart was racing against his chest. He opened his mouth, having trouble breathing and the face mask didn’t help at all but he wouldn’t take it off for the life of his.  
  
Genji wanted to puke. The sheer fact that he had become attached to the man across the room was making him feel things, he felt good, good for once – but at the same time the intrusive thoughts of it being only bad for him, that he would get hurt if he indulged into the sweetness of friendship and trust, were screaming loudly into his ears, trying to overshadow the fondness he found in how comforting McCree’s presence was to him.  
  
Genji fought with himself. He wanted this. _He really wanted this_.  
  


_Fuck his mind._  
  
His body was almost moving on its own as he removed himself from the chair and walked on featherlight feet to the other side of the room to the couch McCree was sitting on.  
Casting a shadow over the man, Genji brought him back to the real world.  
  
Brown eyes met the glaring red of his.  
  
“You okay there, buddy?” McCree asked, his voice indicating confusion over the sudden approach.  
  
He put the book aside – apparently, Genji’s eyes were blowing his cover of utter indifference to the outside, his soul was falling apart and McCree could see it.  
Genji looked away that very second, feeling exposed, vulnerable.  
  
He felt McCree’s hand softly wrapping around the wrist of his left arm and Genji would have protested if this wasn’t exactly what he wanted – touch.  
  
They stayed like that for a while, frozen in time.  
  


The pain in Genji started to slowly diminish and he let himself sink onto the couch next to his comrade, still not looking at him. The vulnerability was still eating on him away.  
  
McCree’s hand wandered from Genji’s wrist to his shoulder, hesitantly. He wasn’t used to seeing him like this – normally, Genji would punish any attempt of physical touch with a glare that could kill if not with outright force.  
  
Upon realisation that he wasn’t reacting like his usual self, McCree grew suspicious of this odd peacefulness.  
  
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” he began. “Hey…”  
  
Genji forced himself to look at him, literally begging in his mind that McCree would read him correctly. _Hug me_. _Hug me, please._  
  
And McCree read his mind as he wished for.  
  
Genji was pulled into his arms. His heart wanted to cry, his mind screamed in despair.  
  
_Bad! BAD! BAD!!_  
  
Genji was shaking, he breathed heavily against the face mask but started to ease into the touch a moment later. It was… difficult.  
  
The pain returned in a sudden burst.

  
He wanted to pull away again but McCree didn’t let him and he silently thanked him for trying to restrain him – something that usually failed because Genji didn’t bend to anyone’s will but his own.

Genji’s muscles – artificial and real ones – tensed incredibly, his entire body protested against the touch but his soul yearned for it.  
  
He could feel McCree’s hand softly brushing the cables away coming from his neck and carefully starting to rub over his back.  
  
“Shh…,” he whispered against Genji’s ear. He pressed the cyborg softly against his own body and eventually Genji calmed down.  
  


McCree was warm and comfortable. Genji could feel it against the little part of his face that wasn’t covered by metal through McCree’s shirt. He closed his eyes and sighed softly, inhaling the faint smell of tobacco, gunpowder and ink that came from the man hugging him.  
  
Genji couldn’t have imagined it being this good, hold in a soft embrace.  
His memory failed on him when he had been hugged like this the last time. It seemed almost like it never occurred before but Genji didn’t trust his memory all too well.  
  
They stayed like that for a while in pleasant silence, McCree’s hand slowly caressing Genji’s back in slow circling motions.  
The panic left him eventually, bringing him back into the eternal state of being in his content apathy, only leaving the high feeling of adrenaline rushing through his body, clouding his senses and lulling him into the comforting high he needed so badly.  
It made Genji sigh softly which sounded like a purr through the plate that covered his mouth.  
  
He could hear McCree chuckle softly which made him crack open his eyes and look up to him, his gaze is as intense as ever, but it had lost its ever-threatening aura for this particular moment.  
  


“You kinda remind me of the cat I had when I was a child, before the Crisis,” McCree spoke, a soft smile on his lips.  
  
“Her name was Pumpkin, a calico with really soft fur but really sharp claws. Whenever she wanted attention, she did so by knocking your shit over or even breaking stuff. But when you picked her up to give her the attention and cuddles she demanded, she protested with her claws so you had to keep her in your arms while she tried to scratch them bloody, until she relaxed and started purring as if nothing happened. You’re doing the same thing right now.”

Genji looked at him, not sure what to reply after being compared to his comrades’ childhood pet cat. It was… _funny_ , actually, he had to admit.  
Without adding anything to McCree’s story, he closed his eyes again and pressed his face against his chest for another while.  
It was too good to be real and the thoughts of it going to hurt him one day crept back into his mind. Eventually, he broke away from the embrace, as much as it pained him – the longer he stayed, the worse the intrusive thoughts became.   
  
And Genji didn’t want to unleash his wrath against McCree too.  
  
As he stood there in front of his comrade again, the realisation hit him like a gunshot through the chest.  
  


When did he start to care for someone like this?  
  
He thought it was impossible… but he got attached. And now it was too late to go back.  
  
Genji turned on his heel to leave the room, fully aware that he left McCree behind in confusion again.  
All of his actions with him were like that. Confusing. Genji was fully aware of how little sense he made, how much of he acted like a cat.

“Maybe next time I will just knock your shit over,” he said, his voice indicating no particular emotion even though he was bursting inside from desperation.  
  


Denial was better.  
  
Apathy was better.

Being unable to feel was better.

But then again, sometimes he really wanted to feel. Especially around McCree. 

  
If feelings weren’t making him lose control though. Being out of control was the worst for Genji.  
  
He slammed the door shut with a little too much force. When McCree’s presence wasn’t there, Genji felt nothing at all.

_And that was better._


End file.
